Liar
by Lady Mirabelle
Summary: On a cold, wintry day, Aoshi and Misao find a means of entertainment.


Disclaimer: Ne, don't own, don't sue. Tchah.

A/N: Little kids were zooming around the park nearby, screaming, "LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE!" over and over and _over_ again. Thus, this story was born. Hooray.

As with my first story, the two will have a more comfortable relationship with one another. None of that stuffy stiff-ness between the two. Not in this one, at least. I'm sure that I'll write an IN CHARACTER (-gasp-) story one of these days.

This is my first time writing from Aoshi's point of view. I'm warning you _right now_, there is OOC-ness. But it makes the fic all the fluffier. Give it a shot, onegai? XD

* * *

**_Liar_**

It had all started out on a wintry day.

One fateful, horribly memorable day. Oh yes, memorable.

It's not often that I find myself at a loss of words, but that day…

Oh Kami, that day…

_**

* * *

** _

_**Flashback**_

Midnight had just come and gone. I was sitting at my desk, reading one of my favorite documentaries. It was snowing outside fiercely, and the world was blanketed in a calm white. I was rather fond of this type of weather. The white reflected upon the world's sins and misgivings… and yet, year after year, springtime brought me to ease.

The shoji burst open with a clatter, and I gave a start. Who was disturbing me at this ungodly hour?

The nightly visitor called out, "Aoshi-sama, you still awake?"

Ah. So it was Misao. Though strange as it was, I was growing more and more accustomed to her visits. In fact, day by day, I felt myself looking forward to the moment that I would see her smiling face popping in whichever door led to the room I was in. Of course, she would look in on me frequently, so I was never left disappointed.

Misao had changed greatly over the course of two years. She had filled out slightly, and she had lost that 'ninja boy' look that Hajime had kept harping about. A while ago, she had cut her hair so that it no longer reached her knees. Misao had even taken to wearing kimonos occasionally. I was inwardly pleased when these changes took place- it meant that Hannya and I had done a terrific job of raising our little Misao-chan into a woman.

I carefully folded the corner of the page I was on and replied quietly, "Aa. Come in, Misao."

I heard scuffling, and Misao's shadow leaned down to remove her slippers. Her back arched gracefully, and a slender arm stretched down to slip off her shoe. She repeated the action for the other shoe while I watched, transfixed. When had Misao gotten so feminine? I had not noticed this transition. It seemed as if one day, she was still the genki Misao that we all knew, and the next, she had blossomed into a young lady.

She stepped in, and I instantly hid a smile at her state. Did I mention that Misao has spectacular bed hair? No one else's hair can fluff up like that when one sleeps. Her sleeping yukata opened a tad at the top and hung loosely on her small frame.

Misao yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Aoshi-sama, what are you doing up so late?"

I replied, "I could ask you the same thing, Misao."

She laughed, and I could feel a warm feeling starting in from my gut. I had started to have strange reactions from Misao, but I had shoved them aside. No harm done, right?

I watched as Misao promptly took a seat across the table, smoothing down her yukata as she did so. She ran a hand raggedly through her messy hair and straightened it out some.

I murmured, "Misao, you should get back to bed… tomorrow's a big day."

Smiling, she protested, "Aoshi-sama, I've tried to fall asleep since ten. And what's tomorrow, anyway?

I was caught. "Nothing. I lied."

Misao pulled on a comical expression and scolded, "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Aoshi-sama. Lying is a bad quality for one to have. You know that."

"I suppose."

Misao sighed, and a comfortable silence stretched between us. I found that I rather liked it.

Misao voiced in a sad little whine, "Aoshi-sama… I'm _bored_."

Not in the least bit surprised, I asked, "What do you suggest we do?"

"Let's play a game. A game of lying, because you seem to like the sport."

I repeated, dismayed, "A… game? Of lying?"

"Yup! Yahiko told me about it last time Himura's group came over from Tokyo."

How bad could it be? Against my intuition, I agreed.

Misao beamed and explained quickly, "Okay, Aoshi-sama. The object of this game is to test how well you know the other person. Because it's the two of us, I'm sure we'll both do really well! Anyway, we both say statements, either true or false. The other person has to state whether or not it's true. So basically, the whole point of the game is to try to deceive the opponent. Whoever gets five points first wins. Oh, one more thing. If you think that the statement's false, you say 'Liar'. Or 'You're lying'. Or anything like that, really. If it's true, you say 'True', or 'You're right', or whatever. Simple enough, right?"

I nodded half-heartedly. If this was what it would take for Misao to grow drowsier and fall asleep happy, I would do it.

"You go first, Aoshi-sama!"

I sighed. "Very well."

Not searching very hard for anything to say, I said flatly, "The Aoiya has been in business for 69 years."

Misao chimed joyfully, "You're lying, Aoshi-sama! 64 years! One point for _Mi-sa-o-chan_!"

That was odd. I felt a strange sensation worming up from my stomach, and Kami, it wasn't a good one. Strangely enough, I felt… _competitive_. And _indignant_. Such emotions weren't respectable to have, but I couldn't help it.

"My turn, Aoshi-sama! Um… oh, okay. Himura and Kaoru got engaged this weekend."

I snorted. "No, that can't be."

Misao laughed and made a noise like a buzzer. "Ehhh! Wrong! They _did_ get engaged!"

I couldn't help it, I really couldn't. I slammed my hands onto the desk, demanding, "Nani? Battousai finally asked Kaoru-san?"

"Mmhmm! Two points for Misao!"

_When_ had Battousai asked Kaoru-san? I would have thought that he was terribly shy and would hold out until at least next year… Battousai couldn't have _possibly_… and yet, it did seem likely at the same time. Perhaps he had finally warmed onto the Kamiya.

I could feel my cheeks becoming warm. How could I be _losing_? Perhaps my competitive side was beginning to kick in, but at the time, I couldn't have cared less. This was _my _battle now.

I said slowly, "Very well, Misao. My turn. Hannya's shirt has seven visible stripes on it."

She beamed and replied, "Aoshi-sama… Aoshi-sama, Aoshi-sama, Aoshi-sama. How could you think that I wouldn't know _this_? Hannya-kun's shirt has six visible stripes on it. LIAR."

I frowned. How in the world did she know that? I myself hadn't known until one day out on the road when I had become very, very bored. I had quizzed myself on the others' outfits until I had memorized every detail. I hadn't expected Misao to know that… perhaps it was time to raise it up a notch.

Misao raised three fingers and gleefully exclaimed, "Three points! My turn! Saitou Hajime smokes one pack of cigarettes per day."

I smiled slightly at the question. This one I was sure I knew. "You must be right. The man smokes like a machine."

Misao raised her arms up quickly into a victory sign. "Wrong! Saitou Hajime does _not_ smoke one pack of cigarettes per day! In fact, he smokes _three_! Why he does, I'll never know… it's going to kill him one of these days. I bet he doesn't even care though… what a lunatic, eh, Aoshi-sama?"

I was flushed, I knew it. One more point, and I would be a goner! Misao would emerge victorious, 5-0, and I would be the laughingstock of the Aoiya. No way, not today. I was going to turn this around.

I shot back, fully aware that I was becoming a regular little Sagara, "Be that as it may, it is my turn, Misao. Are you prepared?"

Misao giggled. "As ready as I'll ever be, Mister Losing-By-Four-To-Zero."

As I remembered the many events that Misao and I had shared throughout the years, I was struck by inspiration. I smiled.

"I gave you a green paper crane on your birthday, when you turned four."

Misao smirked. "Yup. True."

My mood lifted. "Wrong. Lie."

"Nani? You did so give me a green paper crane! I still have it!"

I replied wisely, "Ah, but it was an _aquamarine_ paper crane."

Misao scowled. "That was dirty, Aoshi-sama. My turn. Omasu's favorite fruit is a pear."

Finally! Something I could be certain of! "Liar! Omasu's favorite fruit is _not_ a pear. It's a peach. Two points!"

Misao scowled again. "Darn it."

And then, it was my turn. I probed my memory. I really did. But the only thing I could come up with… was…

"Okina can handle a maximum of eight jars of sake before he passes out."

A wicked smile stretched across Misao's face, and my heart fell. She knew the answer to this one.

"_Liar_! Jiya can handle up to _twelve_ jars of sake! Five points, I win! Yatta!"

I frowned. How could I have lost? I thought that I knew Misao better than this… and yet, I lost spectacularly. 5-2.

Misao wheedled, smiling, "That was fun! Can I pick out a prize, Aoshi-sama?"

I couldn't help but smile myself. It _had_ been fun. "Go ahead. What would you like? A brush? A paper? A book?"

Misao laughed. "Silly Aoshi-sama."

I watched in surprise as she leaned forward slowly. Misao captured my lips in a sweet lock, and right then, I didn't care that I had lost. I doubt I would have noticed if a meteor had fallen out of the sky. Pathetic, really. The ex-okashira of the feared Oniwabanshu reduced to a quivering pile of jelly. And then, she pulled away just as quickly as she had come.

Beaming, she waltzed over to the door.

Waving her fingers, she said liltingly, "Oyasumi, Aoshi-sama! Thanks for the game!"

The shoji door closed, and I was left staring dumbly after her.

I finally pulled myself together, and breathed dazedly, "No… thank _you_."

_**Flashback End**_

* * *

I rubbed my eyes tiredly, glancing at the clock. It was almost midnight, and I was about ready to turn in.

The shoji creaked open, and a pair of sparkling ocean-blue eyes stared at me.

"Hello, Misao."

Misao flounced in once more and took a seat across from me, just as she had done a few days ago.

"Aoshi-sama! You're up late again!"

I sat down in my seat again smiled, shifting my gaze to Misao, who was sitting across from me with a taunting smirk written all over her face.

"I hate you, Misao Makimachi."

She beamed. "Liar."

I felt a smile slowly blossom across my face.

"Caught me."

* * *

A/N: That was so _fun_ to write! Yappo! I don't think I did a very good job in Aoshi's P.O.V., but it was interesting to see how this fic turned out. Yes, I know it's incredibly OOC. Deal with it. Review, onegai!

**_Edited 7/30/06_**


End file.
